


Oh god oh fuck?

by Woogiegirl



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life: But The AI is Self Aware
Genre: Also also tagged T for minor mentions of nudity and maybe spicy kissing but absolutely no smut here, Also tagged Fenrey cuz 2 bros sitting in a shower 5 inches apart cuz they’re not gay, I’m more of a scenic writer but uh, M/M, Plus it was my first ship in this fandom so I ride or die, This is honestly more drabble writing with a small hint of a plot, my Absolute attempt at something multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-22 05:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30033951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woogiegirl/pseuds/Woogiegirl
Summary: Gordon is normal, experiences the abnormal, and then tries to go back to being normal.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	1. Baby hotline, please dial nine to get out

Gordon sighs and heaves himself into the dingy apartment he calls home. Aliens and the military and all other bullshit Gordon had to meander around, he couldn’t be bothered to complain about the poor state of affairs he left his humble abode in. A bed is a bed, a couch a couch, and food in the fridge is better than nearly post-apocalyptic soda if he had any say on the matter. Which, from true experience, he does have a lot of say. 

The moment Gordon shut the door, his all protecting HEV suit fell from his body. Piece by piece, from orange, to grey, to black, metal chunks hit the floor with an obnoxious clang. The man could only stare and stand almost dumbfounded, but not particularly upset. I mean, he was already planning on somehow ripping this hellish cocoon from himself anyways, but it seems like the world was opting to have him catch a break. Thank _fuck_. 

Without any hesitancy, Gordon bent down and began picking up the pieces of the HEV suit and walking into the kitchen to grab a garbage bag. Wait, was this trash only or recyclable? The suit was all metal, minus the skin-tight bodysuit which he was still wearing, so Gordon wasn’t sure if the trash guys would be complaining to him about his own waste. He’s also gotta worry about any potential noise complaints about the loud metal scraping sounds, but man, this all sounded like a future Gordon problem, but he was still allowed to be anxious about it. He was allowed to be anxious about all kinds of things. 

Like aliens and a very destructive military force. Those were very realistic things to be nervous about, which makes Gordon remind himself of one more thing: the gun he brought from Black Mesa. 

It was a simple, double barreled shotgun. Nothing fancy or flashy, nor shiny or new. But it's never failed Gordon and Gordon isn’t going to fail in protecting himself. Was this going overboard? No, of course not. Gordon was perfectly normal, very much rational and sane, _especially_ after the last three days’ events. How could he not be? He finishes up his cleaning escapade and opts to let the trash guys handle it themselves when they eventually stop at his complex. With a shrug, he ties up the bag. 

Gordon rips the bodysuit away without any other distracting thoughts and balls it up with the rest of the suit. This stuff has _got_ to be worth possibly thousands to build and test, which makes Gordon all the more motivated to dump its ass in the trash where it belongs, because no amount of wasted tax dollars was going to be salvaged after it threw him into literal purgatory. 

‘ _I am butt-ass naked,’_ Gordon thought briefly, feeling the rush of cooler air. 

The man cracks his door open just enough where he could slide the trash bag outside before jamming it closed and grabbing the shotgun he left on the floor. Gordon heads straight to his bathroom. He grips the barrels in his hand and turns on nearly every light, even closet lights and hallways he wasn’t walking in. Gordon eventually makes it to the bathroom and shuts the door, leaving the shotgun by the shower tub and pulling the curtain back, revealing Benrey. 

“Yo,” they say with expected nonchalonce. 

“Hey,” Gordon replies, “what are you doing in my shower?”

“I’m washing me and my clothes.” 

“There’s no water?” 

“Air particles or-or whatever,” Benrey says sheepishly. “Yer a scientist, right?” 

“Washing clothes requires fluids and cleaning chemicals, Benrey.” 

“Smartass.” 

“Dumbass.”

Gordon sighs with bone-deep exhaustion and shuts the shower curtain. He re-equips himself with the gun and goes towards his room instead, not bothering to maybe stop and put on underwear or even shut off the lights he lit up from the previous journey. Will his electric bill skyrocket? Maybe. Gordon’s too tired and lots of his decision making and reactions were fueled from dwindling adrenaline and the equivalent of jet lag, but like, if you mix jet lag with a sudden hangover after mixing drinks. 

Gordon repeats the door closing and carefully placing his shotgun down to crawl into bed like a goblin. The bed sheets had a nice, soft coolness to them which made Gordon relax just a bit. Static fills his brain as all his neurons one by one begin to shut down into unconsciousness, but not before hearing someone mumble something to him, the voice close to his ear.

“Nice ass, bro.” 

  
  



	2. Baby snack time, chow down to Earth

Benrey awoke and began untangling themselves from Gordon’s nasty-ass bed sheets. Soft as they were they smelled like shit and Benrey was getting hungry anyways. The bed, however, felt strangely empty, but Benrey never took Gordon as a heavy sleeper, so maybe they should leave their surprise at the door. The guy  _ was  _ a heavy snorer though, which kinda sucked. Black Mesa always had at least one humming machine at all times, so, as far as Benrey was concerned their sleeps were littered with white noise. 

The man shuddered as soon as they left their bundled nest and snagged a smaller blanket from the pile for general safety. Benrey burrito. Bbbbburrito. Benrey’s feet dragged across the floor and their mind scattered to a mindless autopilot as they navigated Gordon’s apartment for the kitchen. Warmer, exiting the room. Colder, this looks like a bathroom. Frozen- or Forzen, haha -this is a closet. Benrey groaned in unison with their stomach, almost wanting to cause a little trouble on purpose to have Gordon come out, but they’ve got this. 

The faint smell of cheese made its way to Benrey, though, and they followed the scent diligently until they came face to face with a shirtless Gordon, the man in question having finally succumbed to the horror that was wearing pants. Or in his case very silly boxers. Are those little gnomes? Haha, oh my god. 

Benrey’s little snickers certainly got the attention of Gordon and he looked up from the small pot to glance at his now-roommate. He gives them a curious look. 

“Yo.” 

“Hey.” 

“What’chya cookin’?” Benrey asks, coming closer to the stove. 

“I-! Am making mac’n cheese!” Gordon says in a sing-songy tone. 

“Niiiiice,” they drawl.   
  
A relatively comfortable silence fills the room except for the simmering sound of boiling water. Benrey starts to drool as Gordon locates the ever delicious cheese packet and pours it onto the noodles. Yeah, baby, that’s the stuff. Pour down that sweet, sweet curdled cow juice. This stuff looks so much more appetizing than eating ten Kraft singles in one go. 

“You good, dude? You’re mumbling some pretty weird shit.” Gordon asks suddenly. 

Benrey shoots their head up from looking at the still burning stove. The man’s mouth was agape which was a very opposite feeling expression to Gordon’s near grimace at them. There’s no possible way Benrey could live to tell Gordon their thought process because hand to God their brain to mouth filter could only get so far. Smite them all you’d like up there, cuz Benrey is gonna keep this shit with them till the grave and walk backwards into Hell. 

Their focus shifts into hyperdrive and tries to in any capacity to shift the conversation. Stay strong, Lover, the objective is food and not incredibly awkward conversation. Just try and derail this before Gordon decides you’re too uncool for mac’n cheese. Then, Benrey hears something faint amongst the buzz. They hear music. They fall into a bit of horrific realization after hearing the music. 

“B-Bro...is that..K-Pop?” 

“Wh-oh, yeah, it is. It’s good music and I like the beat,” Gordon responds. 

Benrey squints and leans forward, “Why are you playing fuckin’ LOONA in the good year 2021?” 

“Hey man, this shit got me through college and grad school. I owe it a lot. You don’t see me judging your game taste.” 

“Touché…,” Benrey mumbles in faux surrender. 

Gordon looks away to focus on the noodles. 

Well, at least, in a way, Benrey got to avoid going on a deep venture into their own psyche today. But, they don’t think they wanna wonder about Gordon’s college life.  _ Good lord Gordon’s college life _ . So much for avoiding awkward conversation. 

“Those are, uh, some sick noods you got cooking,” Benrey mumbles.

“I-what?”

“Yeah.” 


	3. She’s a hoarder of quarters and no boundary boredom

Was Gordon claiming and stealing a gun something he worried about often? Technically, no, it wasn’t. Now, this very rational decision was made in part by Gordon’s now lovely inclusion to his everyday anxiety known as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which Gordon has also tenderly gripped by the skull and slammed six feet under where no light may shine. 

The G-Man, also known as Tommy’s father, also known as Chuck E. Cheese enthusiast next to Gordon’s son, did mention about how any and all weapons used during Gordon’s escape through Black Mesa was government property. 

“Y’know, all of the equipment used is government property, my dude,” Gordon recalled on the space tram. 

Actually, the  _ my dude _ part was technically an exaggeration on Gordon’s end via his memory, but he certainly got the message and it most certainly went one ear and out the other in terms of consideration through the haze of it all. Even when Gordon had brought the same government owned shotgun into an established food business building  _ right in front of Tommy’s dad _ , you would think he would have noticed right away and taken it. That is not what (thankfully) happened during the two hour birthday bash. Gordon had decided, due to his stroke of good luck, that during the party to just try his best to be considerate and not fall asleep during most of Tommy’s special day. The world even reprimanded nap time from Gordon when Bubby got a turn on the piñata and bonked him in the head. 

Now Dr. Gordon Freeman, PhD, is a non-licensed gun owner and he’d be damned if any sort of self imposed safety was to be taken away. No sir, not one bit will Dr. Freeman allow that bullshit, and so far no such bullshit has come to him in any standard. Not lone militants with a vendetta, no stray extraterrestrials with a blood-thirsty diet. Nothing. Gordon should have been really happy. This only served to make Gordon anxious. 

Today marks the second week back from Black Mesa and with his shotgun. It lay, untouched and a bit dusty, inside Gordon’s closet, several packs of ammo snug into the corner. The only other person who was aware of such a possession was Benrey, and after a bit of convincing for them  _ not _ to rat Gordon’s ass to the G-Man, Gordon and Benrey knew that the shotgun was to be used for emergencies only. 

What Benrey thought an emergency counted for and what  _ Gordon _ thought an emergency counted for were very different things. Gordon believed that he and Benrey were on the same page once discussion had been closed, but I guess when one of the two had hardly known the outside world and most likely lived elsewhere that  _ wasn’t _ Earth many, many things could be taken out of context. 

Those thoughts blended together has Gordon spent another one of his off days in bed, neglecting pants once again to stay boxers-only. This time these had pumpkins. Gordon flicked through his phone, having just texted his ex-wife to plan out whenever Joshua was to visit next, and wasn’t really processing any other current information. 

It was then, in a fleeting moment, that Benrey uncharacteristically nearly crashed through Gordon’s bedroom door, panting and flying towards the back closet. 

“Shiiiiiiiit, shit shit shit  _ shit _ !” They mumbled through gritting teeth. 

Gordon jolted upright at all the intense movement, giving himself near whiplash. He was unsure what caused Benrey of all people to be so anxious all of a sudden, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t affected Gordon.

“Whoa! Whoa, Jesus, dude is everything good?” Gordon asked. 

Benrey didn’t respond right away, too busy cracking the unloaded weapon and filing in thick red shells into the barrels. They click it closed and run back out. 

Gordon jumps off the bed and speeds through to hopefully catch up with Benrey. Both him and them find themselves dead center in the living room, with Gordon confused beyond belief and Benrey still stressed. Everything seemed to be in order, nothing was out of place through Gordon’s naked eye, but now his stomach knotted in that familiar gut-wrenching anxiety. He looks over to Benrey who was starting to peer underneath the couch, shotgun in hand, and then immediately scrambled back up. This is way too much. 

“Uhhh,” Gordon begins. 

Benrey begins to pace around the living room, nearly white-knuckling the gun. Gordon’s eyes follow. 

“You...good?” 

This time they squat low to meet eye-level on a shelf, scanning back and forth. Benrey turns around and jolts once their gaze meets the carpeted floor. Gordon looks where Benrey was looking. It was-! 

A spider. 

Not even a poisonous one or some sort of behemoth species that even Gordon thought should  _ not _ exist. Nah, it was a completely normal, totally harmless, itty-bitty house spider. Gordon sighs internally and as soon as he was about to call Benrey out on their shit, the mood changes drastically as Benrey points the barrels towards the spider. His eyes go wide. 

“Benrey what are you doing?!” Gordon practically screams. 

“Wh-Bro! There’s a  _ spider _ you don’t  _ see _ that shit?!” Benrey responds, finally realizing Gordon had been in the room with them. 

“Yes, Benrey, I know it’s a spider. Holy shit calm down.” 

Despite Gordon’s soothing, but also not really, words, Benrey only serves to press the shotgun’s barrels closer to the spider, it’s metal now touching the carpet. 

“Ben-,”

They shoot.

“BENREEY!” Gordon screams in horror. 

“Crisis averted,” Benrey says confidently. 

Gordon truly is at a loss for words. Holy shit what the hell. He presses his palms together and holds them close to his face, taking a sharp breath. 

“ _ Benrey _ ,” Gordon starts, and exhales, “ _ What the fuck? _ ” 

“Dunno what you’re mad about…”

“What I’m mad about-?! Benrey I live on the fifth floor of an apartment complex!” Gordon yells. 

“Oh.” 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN  _ OH _ ?!” Gordon’s voice cracks. 

“..Oh.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oh god you guys I’m like, trying. This might be my third or fourth attempt at some sort of multi chapter thing but I don’t even know if I can consider it that, y’know?


End file.
